


Moving On

by YunHo_1819



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Car Accidents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Feels, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Siblings, Major Character Injury, Moving On, Platonic Relationships, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26661163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YunHo_1819/pseuds/YunHo_1819
Summary: I swung my head back to face him with a death glare. “Can you just stop talking? For once in your life, be quiet!”Stunned silence fell. He met my gaze with wide tearful eyes. Sighing, I turned back to the road, devoiding my face of all remorse and guilt. Flashing a signal, I turned towards an exit. And soon enough, we were back to the original borderline-illegal driving speed.5 more minutes. We’re almost there. I repeated those words like a mantra, furiously trying to soothe my frayed nerves. School was just around the corner. We will make it.A hurtling shadow. A swerve. A crash.We didn’t make it.Warnings: Major character injury, possible character death.
Relationships: Keith & Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Moving On

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, this is another story done for school work.  
> Prompt: Write a story entitled, 'Moving On'.

“Hurry up! We’re going to be late!”

I heaved my school bag onto my shoulder, dashing down the stairs while dragging my younger brother along the way. It was the first day of senior year, and I was not going to be late.

Ignoring his whines and protests, I shoved my brother into the backseat, eliciting a small yelp from him as I slammed the door hastily. There was no time for guilt. Diving into the driver’s seat, I stomped on the accelerator. The car flew out of the driveway and into the road.

A few years ago, I would’ve given anything to drive. Imagine my exuberance when I acquired my driving licence last month. But now, stuck in the kilometre-long rush hour jam with a pressing time limit, I bitterly realised how naïve I had been. Cars were packed throughout the highway, and the sounds of obnoxious honking from enraged adults only added to my headache. The traffic was horrible, and I had to fight the urge to scream and rage as the queue dragged on. And to make matters worse, my little brother at the back would just not shut up. I know, I love him and all, but sometimes it’s just too much to handle.

“Shiro, when are we going to get there?”

“Shiro, it’s almost eight. We’re going to be late.”

_Breathe in, breathe out. Patience yields focus._

“Um… Shiro? I forgot to bring my lunchbox.”

“Aargh!” All patience flew out of the window. I swung my head back to face him with a death glare. “Can you just stop talking? For once in your life, be quiet!”

_whoops._

Stunned silence fell. He met my gaze with wide tearful eyes. Sighing, I turned back to the road, devoiding my face of all remorse and guilt. _No time for that now._ Flashing a signal, I turned towards an exit. And soon enough, we were back to the original borderline-illegal driving speed.

 _5 more minutes. We’re almost there._ I repeated those words like a mantra, furiously trying to soothe my frayed nerves. School was just around the corner. We're almost there. We will make it.

A hurtling shadow. A swerve. A crash.

We didn’t make it.

* * *

Everything was dark. Numb, like I was submerged in water. Blearily, I opened my eyes. A white sterile room glared back at me. _What had happened?_

Oh right. We were in a car accident. There was something in the middle of the road. I had frantically steered away, only to collide with a tree by the sidewalk.

Muffled sobs echoed through the room. I tilted my head to the right, trying to locate the source. My mother was there, heaving as she hid her face beneath her hands. Throat tight, I tried to call her, but she didn't look up. Behind her, I could see the faint outline of another bed. I leaned over the bed in trepidation.

There lay my little brother, head wrapped in bloodied bandages, eyes closed in soundless sleep, his face pale and wiry frame looking lost and frail under all the medical equipment. He looked so small. So fragile.

It was all my fault.

Going to school wasn’t supposed to be deadly. It wasn’t supposed to end in the hospital. Yet now, I could only hold back the tears that were threatening to fall, and think of my brother. Crap, he was only seven, and now I may never get to speak to him again.

Loud, harsh beeping filled the room. I hid myself under the covers, closing off my ears to block out the heartbroken wail of my mother. Doctors and nurses rushed in. Choking in despair, I squeezed my eyes shut.

* * *

Miraculously, my brother recovered. He was quieter, despondent, with a newly gained haunted glint in his eyes. But, he was alive. I was overwhelmed with relief. Two weeks later, we were back home.

Life wasn’t quite the same after that. Every day, mom busied herself with planning and driving: sending my brother to school, to hospital for check-ups, to all the places she needed to finish her businesses. On the other hand, my brother had become silent and broody. Once an obnoxiously loud chatterbox with a carefree grin, he now only spoke when he was spoken to, and snapped at anyone who stared at him with pitying eyes. As for me, I drowned myself in guilt, heart clenching every time I saw my family’s expressions. I blamed myself for snapping at my brother, for my unnecessarily reckless driving, for overlooking what truly mattered. Everyone was falling apart, yet there was nothing I could do to stop this train wreck.

It was all my fault.

* * *

It was a cloudy summer’s day. My family was there, as well as our friends, cousins, and a few other students and teachers from school. Even the principal was there, dressed entirely in a dreary black, head bowed and eyes downcast. There were more people than I expected. I stood awkwardly behind the casket, unsure of what to do. The pastor was speaking, voice laced with heavy sorrow, telling the story of a young man, a wonderful brother and son, who passed too early.

I wasn’t any of those things. Well, maybe I was once, but it didn’t end that way.

My brother, eyes red-rimmed and lips trembling, walked up to me and placed a blooming flower across my chest.

“Goodbye, Shiro. I-I love you.” Tears were streaming down his checks. “A-and I’m sorry. The crash wasn’t your fault.” He whispered. “Even so, I will say this: I forgive you." He smiled weakly. "You were never good at forgiving yourself. Anyway, if you're listening, thank you.” My mother engulfed him in a hug, letting her tears fall. A watery smile graced her lips. Warmth spread to my heart. My eyes moistened as I wrapped my arms tightly around both of them.

They were moving on.

And I should too.

With a long last glance at the pair, I turn and dissipate into the wind.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about that.  
> Shiro won't get mad like that, I know.


End file.
